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I remember food and clothes being very scarce, so we were given ration books for food and coupons for clothes and household materials. I received 2 ozs of butter each week which was given to my father for his packed meal each day to take to work and he gave me his margarine ration in exchange, as he was the breadwinner of the family and he preferred the butter!! To this day I still eat margarine as I have become used to the taste.

One fine day my mother decided to wash the curtains, and as material was rationed we did not have any spare ones to put up in their place. They looked grand blowing in the wind, so clean and fresh and were just about dry when the air raid siren went, so down we went to our shelter in the garden which was made of corrugated iron, and as it had an earth floor, it was always cold and damp and was most uncomfortable. After two hours of bombs falling and our own AKAK guns pounding away, the ‘All Clear’ siren went and we all emerged from the shelter safely. We went to help Mum with the curtains, but to our horror they were just a mass of torn shreds, which was caused by falling shrapnel from our own guns. A lot of wheeling and dealing went on that night and a neighbour from down the road who used to sell her coupons to the highest bidder. At least Mum won which enabled her to buy much needed ones, which never got washed until the war was over.

The sound of the Air Raid siren going off to warn us of an impending raid is something that remains in my memory and when I hear the ambulance or police cars sounding their sirens it reminds me of those grim days and my heart still misses a beat even though it is sixty years later.

When the raids started and the bombs came screaming down and our guns pounded in reply caused me and many other people to have terrible nightmares, which lasted for many years after the war. One night after a very heavy bombing raid we learnt ‘through the grapevine’ that Liverpool was on fire, and as we lived across the River Mersey we all dashed down to the river and gazed across. The whole of Liverpool’s water front was a mass of flames and it gave one the impression of a spectacular firework display. Unfortunately many people were killed that night and the city flattened, but over the years it rose again from the ashes and became a thriving city again. The miracle of that evening was that the Liver building which stood proudly amid all the ruins was not touched, and so it remains to this day a symbol of Liverpool’s courage throughout those devastating times.

When I look back and remember the horror of those nights I wonder how we all survived, but despite the lack of sleep, and the trauma, we all carried on with our lives. I was just fourteen at the time and had just started work, but each morning I would set off walking a mile through broken glass and rubble to get to Port Sunlight for an eight o’clock start. Somehow we felt a terrific sense of loyalty to our country, and at all costs must keep the British flag flying, and support our wonderful soldiers who were fighting for our freedom.

I vividly remember Winston Churchill’s famous rallying speeches which made us feel proud to be British and gave us the courage to keep hope in our hearts until at last the great day dawned when peace was declared and Britain emerged victorious and safe once again.

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Jonathan Mottershead of the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Shropshire CSV Action Desk on behalf of Lilian Ure and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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